. If Castleman had offered objection to the arrangement, he had
been silenced.

I was especially anxious that Max should devote himself to Twonette,
but, as I had expected, Yolanda's attractions were far too great to be
resisted. There was a slight Walloon accent in her French and German (we
all spoke both languages) that gave to her voice an exquisite cadence. I
spoke to her in Walloonish, and she was so pleased that she seemed to
nestle toward me. In the midst of an animated conversation she suddenly
became silent, and I saw her watching Max's hand. I thought she was
looking at his ring. It was the one that Mary of Burgundy had given him.

CHAPTER III

YOLANDA THE SORCERESS

Several days passed, during which we saw the Castlemans frequently. One
evening after supper, when we were all sitting in the parlor, Yolanda
enticed Max to an adjoining room, on the excuse of showing him an
ancient piece of tapestry. When it had been examined, she seated herself
on a window bench and indicated a chair for Max near by. Among much that
was said I quote the following from memory, as Max told me afterward:--

"So you are from Italy, Sir Max?" queried Yolanda, stealing a glance at
his ring.

"Yes," returned Max.

"From what part, may I ask?" continued the girl, with a slight
inclination of her head to one side and a flash from beneath the
preposterously long lashes toward his hand.

"From--from Rome," stammered Max, halting at even so small a lie.

"Ah, Sir Karl said you were from Lombardy," answered the girl.

"Well--that is--originally, perhaps, I was," he returned.

"Perhaps your family lives in both places?" she asked very seriously.

"Yes, that is the way of it," he responded.

"Were you born in both places?" asked Yolanda, without the shadow of a
smile. Max was thinking of the little lie he was telling and did not
analyze her question.

"No," he answered, in simple honesty, "you see I could not be born in
two places. That would be impossible."

"Perhaps it would be," replied Yolanda, with perfect gravity. Max was
five years her senior, but he was a boy, while she had the self-command
of a quick-witted woman, though she still retained the saucy
impertinence of childhood. Slow-going, guileless Max began to suspect a
lurking intention on Yolanda's part to quiz him.

"Did not Sir Karl say something about your having been born in Styria?"
asked the girl, glancing slyly at the ring.

"No, he did not," answered